


Star of Light

by KareliaSweet



Series: Hannigram Holidays [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bottom Hannibal, Christmas Shopping, Fluff, Jealousy, M/M, Smut, doting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 03:42:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5524133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KareliaSweet/pseuds/KareliaSweet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal has a run-in with a doppelganger of Will's in New York at Christmastime.<br/>A tangential companion piece to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/5519942/chapters/12744059">Star of Wonder</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Star of Light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mokuyoubi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mokuyoubi/gifts).



> A bonus gift for my dear mokuyoubi.  
> "Tropes I enjoy are sassy, jealous Will and smitten Hannibal, Hannibal spoiling Will."  
> I tried to cover all three and then I just wrote her some shameless smut.

It’s easy to blend in with the sea of faces that rush together in the waning days of December. It suits Hannibal’s purpose perfectly, to weave unseen in and out before anyone is the wiser.

They both prefer not to venture far from home if they can help it, but Hannibal insisted on going out for Christmas shopping, intent on spoiling Will shamelessly and to the point of absurdity. Will had grumbled about it and only agreed to tag along if Hannibal promised not to buy anything too expensive.

Hannibal had agreed, but his definition of too expensive vastly differs from Will’s.

A new Burberry winter coat, Armani three-piece suit with 24 karat gold cufflinks and a custom engraved wedding band from Tiffany’s is hardly too expensive.

Neither is the purebred Afghan that he purchased and adopted anonymously.

As he exits Barney’s, Hannibal sees a flash of Will’s face in profile, and he cuts a jagged line through the crowd to get to him. Will is facing away from him when he reaches him, and he slips an arm discreetly around his waist in fond greeting.

Will stiffens and almost jumps out of his skin, crying out in alarm.

Hannibal frowns, a puzzled question at the edge of his lips as Will turns to face him.

Oh.

Not Will.

The young man before him looks enough like Will that the confusion is forgivable, but seeing him up close he is so clearly _not_ Will. He’s a little thinner, perhaps an inch shorter, and his posture is entirely submissive. His hair is tidier, and his eyes are young and innocent. He also looks painfully frightened. Hannibal raises his palms in supplication and apology.

“I’m terribly sorry,” Hannibal says, “I thought you were my husband.”

The man doesn’t look at him, looks everywhere but. He seems very uncomfortable, and he blinks and shakes his head.

“I’m not your husband,” he says plainly, but when he looks up at Hannibal, he starts in surprise.

“Oh,” the young man says quietly.

Hannibal arches a brow and slowly lowers his hands. The man smiles a little crookedly.

“You,” he gestures at Hannibal’s face, “you sort of look like my husband. But he wears glasses and his hair is longer and he smiles more.”

Hannibal chuckles. “It would seem we both have excellent taste.”

The young man smiles a little wider, eyes back down at the floor. “I guess so.”

“Adam!”

Adam’s face lights up and he perches on his toes, searching through the crowd.

“Lucas?” he calls out.

He glances back at Hannibal, barely acknowledging his presence anymore.

“I have to go, that’s my husband.”

Adam disappears into the crowd, and Hannibal watches as he seeks out his husband, greeting him with a warm kiss and straightening his glasses.

Hannibal huffs a little as he examines Adam’s husband.

He looks nothing like him. Hannibal would never wear corduroy.

-x-

As expected, Will finished shopping long before Hannibal, and he waits for him at their hotel, growing grumpier by the second. Hannibal had booked a penthouse suite under one of their dozens of assumed names, secretly a little thrilled when Will yelled at him about the exorbitance of it all.

He breathes a sigh of relief when Hannibal finally returns, then immediately frowns in dismay at the plethora of bags he drags in with him.

“Too much,” Will says immediately from his armchair, “take it back.”

Hannibal sets his bags down and kisses him fondly. “Never.”

Will sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “Please tell me that at least some of it is for you.”

Hannibal shakes his head as he doffs his coat and Will exhales in frustration. “The dogs then?”

His only answer is a little quirk of his mouth.

“You’re fucking incorrigible.”

Hannibal smirks, watching his husband from the corner of his eye.

“I had a run-in with a young man who looked remarkably like you.”

Will snaps to attention and he sits up in his chair. His eyes narrow. “How much like me?”

“Enough to cause a slight misunderstanding, but the boy was very gracious about it.”

He remembers the frightened flush on poor Adam’s face. The colour of it is almost identical to the angry one currently spreading across Will’s cheeks.

“Define misunderstanding,” Will says slowly, a fiery possessiveness beginning to stir in his gut.

“It was barely a touch,” Hannibal says.

Will stands, hackles raised.

“You touched him?”

“Barely,” he repeats.

Will growls, flames licking higher and spreading tendrils through his chest. Hannibal turns and steps so he is behind Will, curving an affectionate arm around his waist. “See? Barely.”

Hannibal pauses, dipping his toe into darker waters, and presses a feather-light kiss to Will’s cheek. “Barely a touch at all.”

The kiss is an added affectation, but Hannibal is filled with a foolhardy urge to see how far Will’s jealousy extends. He is rewarded when Will abruptly turns in his arms, clasping the back of Hannibal’s neck hard. His hands work as a jaw might, clamping down as if Hannibal were one of the dogs. Hannibal allows himself to be steered to his knees under the firm grip, staring up at Will with hooded, adoring eyes.

Will looks at him and lightning strikes behind his gaze.

“This is not a game, Hannibal.” He jerks his hand, forcing Hannibal’s chin to his chest. “Testing the waters of my patience is ill-advised.”

Hannibal swallows, the hard click of it echoing as it works around the uncomfortable angle his throat is bent to. He licks at his lips, steadies his breathing, and tries to raise his head. Will holds him firm and tuts.

“No,” he says, and the simple syllable floods Hannibal’s body with desire.

“Who do you belong to?” he asks.

“You,” Hannibal replies with no small amount of pride.

“Good.” Will relaxes his grip a fraction and rubs at the muscle underneath. “Now tell me,” he purrs, “did you really touch someone else the way you touch _me_?”

Hannibal shakes his head. “I could never,” he begins, “but I thought he was-”

“You thought _wrong_. _”_

He releases Hannibal’s neck with the instruction to _stay_ , which he does obediently. Will crouches to his knees, pinching up the fabric of his trousers as he goes. He stares at Hannibal’s downturned face.

“Now look at me.”

Hannibal raises his chin meekly, to meet Will’s eyes, completely besotted with the forceful dominance being inflicted on him. Will smiles, a dark and wicked thing.

“I have you trained so well.”

He reaches forward and drags the tip of his finger along Hannibal’s cheekbone, dipping to catch at his lower lip. Hannibal chases it with his tongue, and Will sighs, pleased.

He stands, and gestures with an upturned palm for Hannibal to stand with him. Hannibal pauses, waiting for the verbal command, wrists locked together behind his waist as though actually bound.

“Up,” Will instructs, and Hannibal smoothly slinks to his feet. Will reaches behind his back and tugs at each wrist, bringing them to his face. He kisses the thin skin over each pulse point, raking his teeth. Hannibal’s fingers uncurl and flutter at the sensitive touch. Will sucks just under the flesh of his palm and watches Hannibal watching him, full mouth parted and ripe.

Fingers circling one wrist, he brings Hannibal’s hand to his tie and lifts his chin with a little jerk. Hannibal makes quick work of the knot and slips the tie free from his collar. He holds it out on open palms, presenting.

“Hmm,” Will considers, “your mouth or your eyes, I wonder.”

“Mouth,” Hannibal begs, “I must see you.”

Will arches an imperious brow. “I didn’t ask you.” He lifts the tie from Hannibal’s hands, letting the end of it trail soft over Hannibal’s fingertips. “Besides, you haven’t done so well with seeing today, have you?”

Hannibal shakes his head in penitence, “No, sir.”

Will stumbles a moment, thrown off guard by the introduction of formal titles to their game. It sends a bolt of lust straight through to his cock and he shivers.

“Call me that again.”

Hannibal looks up through thick lashes, “Yes,” he murmurs silkily, “ _sir_.”

Will moans aloud and crushes his mouth to Hannibal’s, mouths spreading slick and wide, hunger rolling through each clash of their tongues. He threads his fingers through Hannibal’s hair and brings their bodies flush together, letting Hannibal feel how swiftly his words undo him.

“It’ll have to be your eyes, love,” he whispers, “I need to hear more from that mouth.”

Hannibal arches against him, hands seeking lower to clutch his ass. He pulls his mouth away and buries his words hot and torrid into Will’s ear.

“I would do anything for you… sir.”

Will groans, the ache coursing through him. “God, fuck… bedroom. Now.” He wraps the tie around Hannibal’s fist and shoves him roughly, watching the deliberate sway of his hips as he prowls down the corridor of the suite.

He gives Hannibal less than a minute’s grace period to ready himself before he gives chase to the bedroom. He strips himself on the way, jacket and suit flying and landing who-the-fuck-cares-where. He unbuttons his pants, nearly bending the zipper beyond repair as he rasps the tab down. He pauses for only a millisecond to step out of his pants and briefs both, throwing them over his shoulder.

When he reaches the bedroom doorway his breath is knocked free from his lungs.

Hannibal lays naked and supine on the bed, spread-eagled with the tie fixed around his eyes. His mouth is parted and red from kisses and his cock rises thick and full, curving towards his belly.

“Christ, you’re beautiful,” Will breathes, and watches Hannibal’s slack mouth curve in a pleased smile.

“Thank you, sir.”

Will holds the groan in his throat. “Okay, we’re going to have to ration those out, because if you call me sir every time I’m going to come before I even reach the bed.”

Hannibal nods. “Very well…” He lets his voice trail off teasingly, his lips wrapped around the unsaid word.

Will swears and stalks to the bed, climbing up Hannibal’s body to kiss him anew. Their mouths twist and split together, Hannibal makes little hungry snarls and seeks upward for more, struggling to stay pliant as every fiber of his being draws itself to Will’s touch.

With a roll of his hips, Will brings their cocks together, rubbing hard and heavy. Hannibal’s is already shining red at the slit and leaking, and the fluid trails sticky across Will’s chest and groin. He thrusts again and buries his mouth into the curve of Hannibal’s neck, biting hard. Hannibal shouts, hoarse and drugged with pleasure, and Will scrapes his teeth down his jugular, shifting to open-mouthed kisses that trail along his chest to suck at each nipple.

Hannibal’s fingers itch to sink into Will’s hair and feel the soft, sleek curls, but he knows his place, and keeps himself obediently still – maddening though it is.

Will sits up and straddles Hannibal’s chest, watching him come undone with satisfaction.

“Can you see me?”

“No,” Hannibal says, “no, but I can feel you.”

“Oh?” Will shifts further up his body, his cock teasing mere centimeters from Hannibal’s lips.

“What do you feel now?”

Hannibal inhales deep and moans. “Your cock, sir.”

Will wraps a hand around the base and squeezes tight, holding onto his threadbare control.

“And where,” he pants, “where do you want my cock?”

Hannibal’s mouth slackens in answer, pink and open.

“Good boy,” Will sighs, and feeds his cock into Hannibal’s waiting mouth.

Hannibal immediately sucks him down, slurping obscene and wet. Without his hands, he is near-slobbering, but the sight of him taking it so eagerly spirals frissons of delight through Will’s groin, and he fucks harder into the satiny heat.

“Unh,” he groans, “grab my ass.”

Hannibal obeys, clutching at Will’s cheeks in handfuls and pulling him further in. Will scrabbles at the headboard for purchase, rocking into the velvet-soft warmth and keening. Hannibal lets one hand slip a little down the curve of his ass, slipping a finger between his cheeks and teasing at his hole. Will bucks at the touch and hits the back of his throat, causing Hannibal to almost choke.

Will pets blindly at his hair in penitence. “Sorry.”

Hannibal shakes his head around his mouthful and swallows hard. Will feels himself splintering apart and he grips the headboard tighter. Hannibal rubs his finger harder and pushes just past the ring of muscle, stroking inside. He finds himself suddenly wanted to bury his face between those cheeks, covering them spit-slick with kisses, making Will come from that alone.

Will however, is perilously close already, made clear by the grunts Hannibal is forcing from him with each long suck.

“Hannibal,” he keens, hips beginning to stutter beyond his control. Hannibal holds him faster and seals his lips tight, tilting his head back to let Will all the way in.

Will stops with a painful shudder and pulls himself from Hannibal’s mouth.

“No,” he babbles, yanking open the bedside drawer and nearly tearing it from its hinges. He pours a handful of lube and spreads it over his cock, letting it dribble to the sheets before he shoves two fingers into Hannibal’s ass without warning.

Hannibal yells, his cock dripping against his belly as he arcs from the bed. Will presses him down with his palm and pistons his fingers, stretching him quick and merciless.

“I need to fuck you, _now_ ,” Will croaks, the unspoken _but I don’t want to hurt you_ floating between them. Hannibal nods, delirious as Will bends his fingers to stroke at his prostate. He’s been taken with less preparation before, and he needs this just as badly. He rolls his head from side to side, seeking Will without sight, mouth forming around needy sounds that escape his throat and travel straight to Will’s cock.

“Please,” Hannibal begs, “please fuck me, Will.”

Will grabs his cock and lines himself up at Hannibal’s entrance.

“Ask me again.”

“Sir,” Hannibal moans again, tossing his head blindly, “please – please fuck me, sir.”

He enters Hannibal slowly and hisses, lips pulling back against his teeth with the effort of restraining himself from coming immediately.

“Christ, you’re tight,” Will swears, balancing on his arms as his muscles tremble with the tension. Hannibal lays still beneath him, every cell coiled like a spring with the effort to not wrap his limbs around Will and pull him deep, never to return. Will sees the strain and lowers his head to rub against Hannibal’s cheek. The silk of the tie is damp with his tears.

“You can touch me now,” he whispers, and Hannibal immediately pulls Will into a deep kiss. They join languid and loving, easing into their mouths as Will continues to sink into Hannibal’s delicious heat. Hannibal licks the sweat from Will’s jaw and bites at the angled bone underneath. Will turns to suck at his throat, leaving the early shades of a bruise in his wake.

“Let me see you,” Hannibal pleads, straining against the fabric that binds him, “Love, please…”

Will reaches beneath him and pulls the tie free, tossing it to the side. Their eyes meet, and Will’s are great storm clouds.

“Hannibal,” he breathes, forearms shaking as he thrusts in. Hannibal traces his hands up and over Will’s shoulders, looping around his neck and clutching him tight.

“Will,” he whispers, “my Will.”

“You are fucking mine,” Will says, voice low and rough, “mine and mine alone.” He nips at Hannibal’s lower lip, sharp. “Do you understand?”

He begins to move faster, driving into him in punishing thrusts that pull throaty sounds of pleasure from them both.

“Yes,” Hannibal hisses, “I understand, sir.”

He holds Will’s face between his hands and stares deep inside him.

“I’m yours, Will.”

He kisses him then, tender and soft and completely at odds with the rough tempest of their fucking. Will gasps into the kiss and he comes, speechless, the suddenness of it surprising them both. He presses his lips to Hannibal’s, feeding him his own pleasure as it spirals out of him.

The sweetness undoes Hannibal equally, and Will’s fingers barely brush his cock before he spurts between them, roping thick with a cry that hangs at the edge of his throat, eyes wide and brimming with love.

Their mouths meet again, messy with the haze of release flooding through them.

Will collapses, completely boneless, falling into the circle of Hannibal’s arms. His hands stroke down his shoulder blades, through the sheen of sweat that glistens down his spine. Will mouths a weak kiss over Hannibal’s pulse and smiles, sated.

“I fucking love you,” he murmurs. Hannibal wraps his finger around a damp curl and tugs.

“And I, you… _sir_.”

Will’s hips hitch in a final shudder and he feels Hannibal grin feline against his temple.

“Terrible,” he grumbles.

“Yes,” Hannibal agrees, “and entirely yours.”


End file.
